


Words Carried Far

by echoist



Category: Gankutsuou (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-04
Updated: 2010-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:43:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoist/pseuds/echoist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edmond takes Albert on a tour across the stars and finds that he is not the only one with something to teach.  Vague spoilers for Edmond's machinations.  Tagged as "underage" because Albert is 16.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words Carried Far

        Perhaps it was only their distance from Earth that made the difference. Afterward, Edmond never would be sure what caused the change in Albert - or, perhaps more accurately, what gave him the courage to do what he did that night aboard the _Sparda_. Night or day, it made little difference among the stars, but Circadian rhythms still held their sway in those accustomed to the light. Courage and recklessness; sibling shadows more easily found before the dawn.

        Albert's clothes were soaked through from the rain, and he himself not much better; it seemed the simplest solution to offer him a robe while they traveled. It would have fit just fine, too, if the wretched boy had tied it properly. Instead, he insisted upon sprawling across the divan like the King of Janina himself, folds of material falling open across his chest - once he caught Edmond looking at the fit. Once the game was set, and it was too late for each to pretend the other hadn't noticed.

        "What's your real name?" Albert had asked, staring out the windows of the large passenger cabin into the cold depths beyond. He did not look at the Count to judge a reaction, appeared not to care in the slightest if his question was judged impertinent or inappropriate to his station. Troublesome viscount or not, the Count obliged him with an answer. By now, events had been set in motion below that could not be stopped; when they returned to France tomorrow, he would know well the name of Edmond Dantes and all the suffering it held. Truly, what could a name matter now?

        Albert rolled the name around on his tongue as if it were a delightful treat, something to be savored, and Edmond instantly regretted divulging his secret. In truth, he was regretting bringing the boy on board the _Sparda_ in the first place, but it was all part of the plan - each stage worked and reworked, carefully honed to perfection over years of obsessive forethought and planning. Deliberate clumsiness, feigned stumbles from imaginary turbulence and Albert's hand slipping beneath the silken folds of his robe as Edmond caught his fall were _not_ part of any plan of _his_ making and -

        "You must want to be fucked," Edmond growled hoarsely, shoving Albert hard up against the curving bulkhead, his mouth pressed against the boy's ear. "Because that's exactly what you're going to get if you don't stop -"

         Arms wrapped tightly, securely around his neck, a lithe muscled body angled just right against his own. No words, just a hot, wet mouth moving against his throat and Edmond was lost to this, whatever _this_ was. He had lifted Albert bodily, carried him back to his cabin where they would remain for the duration of their voyage, and heard no complaints from the boy. At least, he was fairly certain those pleading guttural sounds hadn't been complaints. Seduced by a 16 year old boy on his own ship; Edmond was certain he would look back one day and find the entire episode vaguely humiliating.

        One day, perhaps, but not tonight. No, not tonight, when the light that softly caressed his lover's skin had been a traveler for twenty-five years, for longer than Albert had even been alive, and that didn't seem possible. Not tonight. When the cultured world far below was shaking from the force of his personal war, moves on a board he could not take back. Words from another mouth that would tear Albert's entire life into a thousand pieces before they touched the ground.

        Words were strange, chimerical beasts, Edmond thought. An odd menagerie of syllables, each meaningless on their own, given life by simple arrangement. His Parisian circus of sound trained to dance, to entertain and then turn on its audience, leaving none alive to witness the end of the show. Albert's words, by contrast - uncalculated, perhaps even unintended (_untrue?_) - loosed from a mouth open in passion, a mouth so occupied with repeating Edmond's name he was surprised the boy found the time to utter them, but there they had fallen -

        "I love you."

        Strange, to find himself a pawn in his own game. No, he would not regret giving the boy a ride in the rain, not regret offering Albert a tour of the stars, even if it was the boy who had something to teach in the end. Not tonight, when all Edmond wanted from the universe he had once begged for death was more time to live in it, more time to understand its many mysteries. He wrapped his arm around Albert, pulled him closer as he slept the untroubled sleep of youth. Just - a little more time.

  
_"And a word carries far--very far--deals destruction through time as the bullets go flying through space."_  
\- Joseph Conrad, _Lord Jim_


End file.
